


Five Times Buffy Lied & The One Time She Didn't

by SapphireSmoke



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-04
Updated: 2012-06-04
Packaged: 2017-11-06 21:02:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/423159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SapphireSmoke/pseuds/SapphireSmoke
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Buffy really likes Faith, but all she can ever manage to do is lie about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I

**Author's Note:**

> Beta: Frass  
> Timeline: Season 3  
> A/N: So I've never done a "Five Times" fic, and figured it was about time. This is something I've been working on whenever my brain doesn't wanna cooperate with Chains or Queens, but I wanted to give myself motivation to finish it since it's been on my hard drive for months. It's a different style of writing then I usually do, mainly to lighten the mood from all the angst and drama I normally do. It's just something quick and fun (possibly walking the line of the "crack" genre lol) and I hope it entertains :)

The graveyard is quiet. Almost _too_ quiet.

The wind blows through the trees, the leaves rustling in its wake. Buffy holds her stake firmly in her hand; knowing after years of being the Slayer that quiet almost always indicates that doom is right around the next corner either being very hairy, very smelly, or very undead; sometimes all three. The grass crunches beneath her shoes as she weaves through the gravestones, wondering if ‘Alice Parker’, or maybe ‘Nathan Baker’ will pop out and say hello, but the dirt remains undisturbed; they’re just plain old dead.

Buffy would say that’s boring, but then she’d run the risk of sounding like someone she knows and she’s been trying to avoid that.

‘Katherine Clive’, how about you? 

No? Well then, fine. Stay dead, see if she cares.

…She cares. 

She’s _bored._

Buffy twirled the stake in her hand, finding her mind drifting to her bedroom, her bed, and how much she’d like to crawl in it right now and finally get a decent night’s sleep. But no, she’s the _good_ Slayer. The _responsible_ Slayer. Duty, destiny, and boredom all rolled up into one giant, lame burrito.

Damnit, now she’s hungry.

Maybe she could ditch patrol early, just this once. It’s not like anyone would really know, right? Besides, now she’s craving Mexican.

And now she’s wondering what Mexican vampires are like. Do they wear sombreros? 

Maybe that’s like assuming all American Vampires are fat though. Then again, she probably shouldn’t feel bad about stereotyping _vampires._

Yeah. She’s leaving. When you start thinking about if it’s politically incorrect to stereotype a vampire, it obviously means sleep is needed.

“And here I thought I was the one who’s supposed to fuck off patrol.”

Buffy nearly jumped out of her skin at the sound of the voice coming from behind her. Damn Slayer senses, what the hell?! Usually she can feel Faith coming from a mile away. Maybe she should talk to Giles; if the connection is off then she can’t feel Faith coming, and if she can’t feel Faith coming then she can’t properly avoid her. Like now.

God, she looks hot.

Focus.

Buffy doesn’t lie to her, she only lies when it’s important enough too, but she does do a lot of avoiding, “If you were blowing it off then why are you here?”

Why is she here looking like _that_ should have been the question, but Buffy doesn’t comment on how Faith looks because then that leads to Faith assuming she’s checking her out.

Not that she does that or anything.

…Not intentionally, anyway. But it’s kind of hard not to look when her breasts are practically spilling out of her shirt. Like now.

Shit. Eyes up.

Her eyes rest on Faith’s face, who’s now smirking at her. Crap, caught. 

“Well ya can’t check me out if I ain’t here; just doin’ ya a favor, B,” Faith tells her with that little smirk that Buffy wishes she could wipe off of her mouth.

With her lips. Maybe her tongue. Probably her tongue.

“Full of yourself, much?” Buffy retorts, hoping the moonlight doesn’t show the pink hue that has adorned her cheeks. She scoffs, because that’s what she does best, and she walks away, because that’s what she does better. “Do you actually have a real purpose for being here, or are you just trying to annoy me?”

She doesn’t annoy her. Quite the opposite.

She’s pretty sure Faith knows it too, which is why she doesn’t get angry.

Faith follows her, catching up until she’s matching her stride for stride through the moonlit graveyard. “Was bored,” is all she offers her as a reason.

“It’s not any better out here.”

Understatement.

Of the century, probably.

Faith chuckles, “No wonder you’re so tense.”

Buffy stops, whipping around to face her. “I’m _not_ tense!” she exclaims loudly. Why does Faith always have to assume?

Furthermore, why does she always have to assume right? There should be a law against that.

Maybe she’ll write one.

“Nah B, course not. Ya just shouted at me for no reason.”

Sarcasm. Buffy hates that, but she hates it less on Faith than on other people.

“I wasn’t shouting,” Buffy defends.

She kind of was.

“Ya know, there’s other ways of relieving that tension that doesn’t involve stakin’ the undead,” Faith tells her, with that tone that Buffy knows all too well.

The tone that makes Buffy’s skin feel like it’s on fire.

_Take me, now._

“We’re not all like you, Faith. Some of us don’t slut around in hopes of getting an STD.”

Okay, that was mean. She didn’t mean for that to come out that way; she just overcompensated to stop what she really wanted to come out of her mouth.

“Screw you, Buffy. At least I don’t have to fuck myself every night, wishin’ I had the balls to take what I really wanted,” Faith shoots back. She’s angry, hurt, defensive. She gives her a look that probably would smite Buffy on the spot if she had the power when she adds, “Unlike _some_ people.”

She does. Every single night, wishing it was Faith. She touches herself and wishes it was Faith’s fingers, her tongue, everything. She touches herself and wishes Faith would completely consume her; devour her, possess her, _own_ her.

But she doesn’t have the balls, and so she retorts, “The fact that you even think about me doing that to myself is disgusting, Faith.”

“Didn’t say you.”

“I’m not dense.”

“Coulda fooled me.”

Eyes connect, glaring matches are had. She wants to hit her, she wants to kiss her, she wants to hate her, she wants to love her.

She wants her, and Faith can see it in her eyes.

Faith smirks, the cockiest look Buffy thinks she’s ever seen adorning her features. “You want me,” is all she says; such a simple sentence that carries so much meaning behind it.

And yes. Yes, she does.

 _God_ yes does she want her.

“No, I really _don’t_ ,” she lies, as if it’s the easiest thing in the world. She laughs, like it’s absurd, but it’s scornful, like it’s meant to be hurtful. She doesn’t want to hurt her, but she’s terrified. “In case you’ve forgotten, I’m the straight Slayer.”

No, she really isn’t. She just pretends, like it’s a game. But games are meant to be fun, and pretending – lying – isn’t. 

So maybe not so much like a game, rather trying to bury a dirty secret.

But Faith doesn’t look hurt though, just amused, “You’re so full of shit, B.”

Obviously.

“You wish,” is all Buffy says back to her before turning and leaving, her heart pounding in her chest. She can’t breathe; she can’t think when she’s around Faith. 

She also can never tell the truth when she’s around her either.


	2. II

“You should get Giles to take a look at that gash,” Buffy tells Faith as they stroll through the library doors after another successful patrol. 

Well, at least successful in the way that they staked three vampires each, killed a nasty looking demon, and Buffy was able to keep her jaw off the floor when Faith bent over in those too-tight-to-actually-be-legal leather pants to while retrieving her stake off the ground. Buffy could have sworn she even wiggled her ass for effect.

But Buffy didn’t react. Nope, not her.

So all in all; pretty successful.

Well, except for that demon taking a chunk out of Faith’s arm, though Faith seems mildly unfazed. “It’ll heal,” she tells her.

She’s so stubborn sometimes.

 _All_ the time, actually.

“Ah, girls,” Giles says, looking up from his stack of books. “How did patrol—good lord, Faith, what happened to your arm?”

“Some scaly lookin’ fucker,” Faith responds, flopping down on one of the chairs. She shrugs. “He’s dead.”

“Well you should cleanse the wound and we can see if you need stitches,” Giles tells her.

Faith makes a face. She doesn’t like needles. It’s one of the things Buffy finds adorable about her.

Buffy knows that’s a weird thing to find adorable about a person, but when you see Faith not react to bloody carcasses and then flinch from a tiny needle, it’s kind of cute.

“I’m good.”

Giles gives her a disapproving look, but doesn’t push since he knows he won’t win. He never lets Buffy get away with anything, and she finds that a little unfair.

Not that she particularly wants to go without cleaning her wounds, but regardless. It’s the principal of the thing.

“I trust everything went well then? Anything of interest I should be aware of?” Giles asks, though this time he’s asking Buffy.

“Demon’s showed, we slayed, story: end of,” Buffy tells him. She wants to get back home and lie down with Mr. Gordo and watch a movie.

Well, that’s what she told Faith she was doing after patrol anyway. In reality, after patrol she goes home, stuffs her face with whatever she can find and then masturbates until she can find some release.

But she doesn’t tell Faith that. Faith would make some crude comment, try to lend a helping hand, or make fun of her for the rest of her young life.

And she really only likes one of those scenarios, even if she won’t ever admit it out loud.

Buffy’s gaze is caught by Faith, who’s starting to squirm a little in her seat like she’s uncomfortable. She’s pulling at her clothes a little, not much, but enough for Buffy to notice she’s antsy about… something.

“Ah, I see,” Giles says, sounding disappointed.

“Faith?” Buffy asks, watching the younger slayer. “Are you okay?”

“It’s fuckin’ hot in here,” Faith says, pulling off her leather jacket and throwing it to the floor.

It’s not hot in there. At all, actually.

“Can ya turn the fuckin’ air up, G? Seriously, a bitch could die from heat stroke,” Faith complains and Buffy’s eyes go wide as she notices how flushed Faith’s become. She’s starting to sweat. A lot.

“The air is quite fine in here, Faith, I don’t see how—” But then Giles stops as he takes a look at Faith who looks damn near in pain and frantic to get her clothes off to find some release from the heat. “Buffy, get all the icepacks from the freezer in my office – now!”

Buffy’s up and out of her seat quickly, running into Giles’ office. She opens the freezer, which Giles keeps just for icepacks when they get injured, and takes out all four before running back into the library. Faith is starting to pant, looking like she’s going to pass out.

“Fuck, what the fuck is going on?!” she yells.

“Faith, take off your leathers! Buffy, put the ice packs on her and describe this demon to me!” Giles yells, rummaging through his books.

Have Faith take off her… what now?

“Buffy!”

“Sorry, I… uh…” Buffy stutters, watching Faith peel off her leather pants which were no doubt containing the heat to her body. “Scaly… green… had a horn in the middle of his chest and—” she starts putting one icepack on the back of Faith’s neck and the other on her forehead, but is interrupted when she looks down and…

Oh my god, Faith doesn’t wear underwear!

“You should have told me this right away!” Giles yells, leafing through his books like a mad man.

Faith’s panting, kicking her pants off across the room and grabs the other two icepacks, holding them to her body. “Fuck, make this fuckin’ shit stop!” she screams.

“Faith calm down,” Buffy tells her, realizing there’s panic in her voice now. Her arm just barely touched Faith’s back and she’s burning up. She slides the icepack that’s on her neck down to the middle of her back and Faith shivers.

“Moon root, acai berries, ginger… alright,” Giles says, muttering to himself as he starts grabbing things out of his cabinets and throwing them onto the counter. While he prepares whatever he’s doing, Buffy focuses on Faith, who’s starting to thrash, trying to get away from all the heat inside of her.

“It’s too hot, it’s too _fucking_ hot!” she screams. Buffy has to hold her down to keep her still, but Faith’s hands are tearing at her tank top, trying to get it off of her. Buffy helps, trying to think of everything but how naked Faith is becoming in the middle of the library.

More important things; like Faith not dying for instance.

“Calm down… come on, calm down…” Buffy tries, but Faith starts swearing and trying to get away from her.

Giles runs over to Faith, a syringe in his hand. Thankfully Faith is too out of it to notice the big, long, scary looking needle, but she does cry out when he plunges it into her arm, “MOTHER FUCKER!”

Giles pushes the liquid into Faith’s bloodstream and within moments Buffy can see the effects start to work. Faith has stopped thrashing and her breathing is starting to return to normal as her body temperature drops. Buffy continues to hold her, ice packs still to her body, just in case.

“Alfreknoc demon,” Giles explains, out of breath from his own panic. “It takes about an hour until the venom from their claws makes its way through their victim’s system.”

Oh.

Maybe she and Faith should study more.

Giles clears his throat then, a little awkwardly and stands up. “I’ll leave you to… er, attend to your clothing,” he tells Faith before scurrying out of the room.

Her clothing.

Her clothing?

Oh god, her lack of clothing! She’s touching Faith while she’s _naked!_

….

Now she’s _staring_ at Faith while she’s naked!

…She has the sexiest body…

BAD THOUGHTS!

Her breasts are so perfect, and that little patch of hair that leads to—

Okay, stopping _now!_

Buffy averts her eyes quickly and lets go of Faith, dropping the icepacks to the ground as she flushes the deepest red she thinks she’s ever had in her life as she steps away from her. Oh god, Faith totally knows she was staring at her. She was practically having eye-sex with her! … Or something.

Can you have sex with your eyes? You must be able to; she just practically did, after all!

Oh god, she’s totally going to hell.

Faith chuckles, noticing Buffy’s reaction. She’s feeling better, that’s for sure. She’s returned to her normal color and not her scary almost-give-Buffy-a-heart-attack red color she was sporting not five minutes ago.

“Ya like what you see?” she teases with a smirk as she picks up her clothes from off the ground.

Yes. Oh my god, _yes._ Buffy wants to lick every inch of her body until Faith’s screaming underneath her in ecstasy.

Shit, she shouldn’t have just given herself that visual.

“No,” she lies, scoffing a bit as she folds her arms over her chest. “God, leave it to you to almost die and instead of being thankful you’re alive you start talking about sex.”

Faith smirks as she pulls on her clothes, which Buffy tries like hell not to watch and stares at the wall instead. “Sex is the reason I’m thankful for bein’ alive, B,” Faith tells her, amused. “Keep up.”

Sex with Faith would probably be a good reason to be thankful she was alive, Buffy muses. But because she’s a liar and a pussy; she doesn’t say anything, and instead rolls her eyes and walks away like she isn’t about to go home and masturbate with more realistic visuals tonight.


	3. III

Buffy should have never invited Faith to her and Willow’s “girl night.”

Not only is Faith completely unaware of how one is supposed to act at such a gathering, she’s completely screwed up her nice, normal evening of watching a chick flick and playing Scrabble. 

She told Buffy Scrabble was boring. 

Boring!

There is nothing boring about Scrabble, damnit.

And then she – like the delinquent adolescent that she is – pulls out a bottle of tequila and has the nerve to tell Buffy that _this_ is how you have a sleepover. With booze! With illegal booze that Faith has no business having in the first place!

There is illegal liquor _in her house_ now.

And Willow, of course, does absolutely nothing to back Buffy up, and instead jumps on the ‘Faith is so cool’ train that everyone’s liked riding these days and now Buffy is stuck in a very uncomfortable drinking game that is bound to only lead to badness.

Mainly because, while she is an absolute pro at being able to ogle Faith and not get caught, she’s pretty sure alcohol will severely limit her perverted ninja-like abilities.

Buffy + Alcohol = Bad.

Buffy + Alcohol + Staring + Faith = Worse.

Buffy + Alcohol + Staring + A _Drunk_ Faith = The world coming to an end as she knows it. Buffy’s pretty sure she’s not going to get out of this one with at least getting groped or something.

Not that that’s a bad thing. That’d actually be a very good thing. But Buffy would have to _act_ like it’ a bad thing, and that’s just harder to do when you’re trashed.

“I’ve never… cheated on a test,” Willow says proudly, continuing their little game that has already made them consume a fourth of the bottle between them. Faith rolls her eyes.

“Lame.”

But she takes her shot. They both look at Buffy expectantly, who gives Faith a pleading look. “This stuff tastes horrible,” she tells her. Why they even bottle and sell this stuff is beyond her. Why anyone would _drink_ this crap is beyond her.

“Don’t be a pussy, B. It’s liquor; it’s not supposed to taste like cotton candy.”

“Can’t I just say I’ve never cheated on a test?” Buffy asks hopefully.

“Then that would make you a liar, B,” Faith tells her in a voice only reserved for talking to toddlers. Buffy feels patronized, and apparently feeling patronized makes her an idiot and she looks Faith dead in the eye as she tips back her shot.

She almost chokes; just like every other time she’s taken one of these nasty, evil shots.

Faith laughs; just like she’s done… Every. Single. Time.

“You’re evil,” Buffy tells her through her coughing. This is such a horrible game. Clearly she needs to find new friends. This right here should be an ad for peer pressure.

The longer the game went on, the drunker they all got, and the worse the “I never” things got. Most of that was Faith’s doing, but Willow wasn’t helping.

“Alright. I’ve never… fucked a guy in the ass with a strap-on,” Faith says. Buffy’s eyes bug out of her head, though hopefully not literally because then that would be really weird.

“I should _hope_ you haven’t,” Buffy tells her, her words coming out a bit slurred. She points at Faith overdramatically and tells her, “Because _that’s_ icky.” A pause, “And did you really think any of us _had?_ ”

“No, but I kinda ran outta shit to say that I’ve never done,” Faith tells her with a casual shrug.

Willow looks all too fascinated in this though. “Do you _want_ to?” she asks, clearly too curious for her own drunken good.

Faith smirks. “Wouldn’t say no.”

“Ew,” Buffy says, making a face.

Not that she’s opposed to strap-ons, if the right instance was to occur, but it definitely, _definitely_ wouldn’t be going up her butt.

That’s… no.

Well, unless Faith wanted— _NO!_

Oh God, Buffy’s pretty sure she’s drunk. This can’t be good. Faith and strap-ons should equal a ‘no, not _ever_ ’; not a ‘well, if _Faith…_ ’. Ugh.

She’s doomed; she’s got strap-ons dancing around in her head now.

Oh god, why is Faith looking at her like that? Can she read her mind?!

“That’s so… _cool,_ ” Willow says, looking at Faith like she’s her new sex hero or something. 

This is so wrong.

But Willow’s declaration thankfully makes her turn away from Buffy, who was pretty sure Faith was just undressing her with her eyes a minute ago.

Buffy may or may not have been doing the same thing. Only her mental image included strap-ons.

Faith’s probably did too.

“Your turn, Red.”

“Hey! It’s my turn!” Buffy protests.

“Your turns always suck, B. So we’re skipping you,” Faith tells her with a grin that makes Buffy scowl.

“No! I can do better!” 

“Oh yeah?” Faith asks challengingly.

“Yeah!”

“Well then by all means, Princess, let’s hear it,” Faith says, her cocky grin in place as she leans back and looks like she already won.

Damn her. Buffy will show her. 

“I’ve never… I’ve never…” she tries, then blurts out suddenly, “I’ve never made out with a girl!”

Oh. That was so the wrong thing to say.

See, and this is why alcohol is bad, children. Bad alcohol; bad Buffy.

“You want to?” Faith asks, leaning over so her elbows are resting on her knees and her breasts practically spill out of her shirt. Buffy stares; she can’t help it.

Apparently she stares for a long time, because Faith snaps her fingers in Buffy’s face. “B? My eyes are up here.”

Buffy scowls, averting her eyes instantly. “I just… dazed out,” she avoids. “Take your shot.”

“Oh, you’re that convinced that I have?” Faith asks.

“Well you have… haven’t you?” Buffy asks, now confused herself. She must’ve; she’s _Faith._ She’s like if sex decided to humanize it’s self just to torture Buffy endlessly about her own questionable sexuality.

Faith just smirks at her, her tongue darting out to slowly drag across her bottom lip. Buffy stares; again, like an idiot. It makes Faith chuckle before she grabs her shot off the table and downs it like it’s water.

Buffy’s still stuck staring at her like an immobile moron.

“You’ve really kissed a girl?” Willow asks, once again too fascinated for her own intoxicated good. “What was it like?”

“You guys seriously never even kissed your girl friends for practice when you were younger?” Faith asks, looking at them both like they’re from a different universe.

Yeah, the universe of _straight._

Only not so much; seeing as Buffy has sex fantasies involving Faith on a daily basis.

Shit.

“No. Now I feel like I missed something,” Willow says, scrunching up her face a little. It would be a pout if not for how confused she looks.

“Hey, if ya wanna check it off your list, Red, I’m down,” Faith offers.

Before Willow has a chance to even answer, Buffy blurts out with, “You are not kissing my friends, Faith!”

Faith is not allowed to kiss her friends, she should be kissing _her!_

Except not really, because then Buffy would have to come out of the closet she made camp in, and it’s nice in there; she decorated.

“Think your friends can kiss whoever they want, B,” Faith tells her pointedly.

No. No they most definitely cannot. She’s staked claim on Faith already!

…Okay, so it was only in her head, but people should still respect the claiming… process, or something, damnit!

“So how ‘bout it, Red?”

Willow takes a moment to think about this, squinting one eye for effect; or maybe just to see straight. Then she nods, giving a big, overenthusiastic smile, “Okay!”

What? No!

“No!” Buffy protests.

“Come on Buffy, we’re… _drunk,_ ” Willow tells her with a giggle, extending the word far too much. “And we’re trying new things! You can kiss Faith after, if you want!”

Buffy’s brain just died.

“Yeah, B; you can kiss me after if ya want,” Faith goads with an enticing smirk.

Buffy’s pretty sure she’d pass out if she felt Faith’s tongue on hers. So no, that would be a… _Oh god, stop getting closer to her, Willow!_ She’s panicky now.

“Jealous?” Faith asks with a knowing grin.

Oh shit, did she just exclaim that… out loud? Oh no. Bad brain, bad mouth, bad Buffy! 

Buffy scoffs, probably too dramatic to really be convincing, and lies, “ _No._ ” Faith looks at her disbelievingly and she points at her and says, “ _I_ don’t want your tongue anywhere _near_ …” she waves her hand around absentmindedly, “me.”

Oh god, that sounded totally drunk and like one big lie. Faith knows; oh god, Faith knows she wants to kiss her! What if Faith just grabs her; takes her in her arms and completely ravages her, leaving her breathless and wanting more? What if she—?

“Your loss,” Faith tells her simply, and then proceeds to stick the tongue that Buffy’s already staked claim on down Willow’s throat.

Buffy just watches, feeling like she’s getting her heart ripped out of her chest.

This sleepover is going to end in tears.


	4. IV

Going to the Bronze is supposed to be a fun activity. Hanging out with your friends, dancing; you know, celebrating that the world isn’t going to end in the next five minutes. That’s always good right? It’s supposed to be fun.

But Buffy isn’t having fun.

Why is it that Faith feels the need to slut it up in front of her every thirty seconds? Can’t she just, for once, stay and hang out with her like she actually gives a shit?

Apparently not.

While Buffy hangs on the couches with Willow and Xander, Faith is on the dance floor with some guy, looking like she’s trying out to be the world’s unclassiest stripper as she uses him as her own personal pole; grinding on him in a way that can’t possibly be legal in public establishments. 

Buffy wants to chop off _his_ pole.

Yes, you know the one.

“What’s with the long face, Buffster?” Xander asks concerned.

“What?” Buffy asks, tearing her eyes away from Faith and her disposable sex toy. “Nothing, I’m fine. Just tired I guess.”

What’s wrong is that she’s watching the girl she’s been heavily crushing on practically have sex with a stranger in front of her and the rest of Sunnydale, _that’s_ what’s wrong.

“Does she have _any_ sense of self dignity?” comes the voice of non other than Buffy’s biggest headache; Cordelia. She’s looking over at Faith with disgust as she sits next to Xander. She continues, “I swear, if ‘Girls Gone Wild’ came in here with a video camera, they’d probably offer her slutty ass a five year contract.”

“She’s not a slut,” Buffy defends, glaring at her.

Except she is; even _Faith_ admits she is. But that’s not the point; she doesn’t like Cordelia talking about her future girlfriend like that.

Ha. Right. _Girlfriend._ Like Faith would ever be interested in something like _that._

If Buffy ever did get up the nerve to tell her she wants her, she’s pretty sure she’d get fucked and then tossed to the side the next morning.

And then probably made fun of for the rest of her short life.

“You need to get your eyes checked Buffy, because that right there is a prime example of Grade A sluttiness,” Cordelia tells her, pointing over at Faith unashamedly.

You don’t _point_ at people when you talk shit about them. What the hell is wrong with her?

“So what’s it like being poor, Cordelia? Do you have to shop at thrift stores yet?” Buffy asks sweetly, a sarcastic smile on her face as she cuts her down a peg or two.

Cordelia looks like she’s trying to smite Buffy on the spot. They have a glaring match for one long moment that makes Xander and Willow feel really awkward until Cordelia announces:

“Come on Xander, we’re leaving.”

“We are?” Xander asks, looking confused for a moment.

“Yes,” she stresses, grabbing his hand and pulling him up, practically dragging him along behind her. She gives Buffy one last vile look before finishing, “We _are._ ”

And then there were two.

“That was mean, Buffy,” Willow chides her softly.

“She was making fun of Faith!” Buffy defends loudly. Willow blushes a deep shade of red.

Every time Faith’s name is mentioned she ends up doing that.

Buffy wishes she could hate her for making out with Faith that one time when they were drunk, but she can’t. Willow’s too sweet to ever hate.

“Hey girlfriend, ya gonna sit there all night or ya actually gonna come dance?” Faith asks, sauntering up to them finally; apparently she ditched the human pole. She swears Faith puts an extra swagger in her step just to make Buffy unable to breathe properly when she looks at her. Like now.

Buffy never thought she would appreciate leather pants, but that’s all she seems to be doing lately. The way they hug low on her hips, tight against her ass, showing off her toned thighs. God, it’s like an extra skin on her she wears it so well. An extra, sexy, beautiful… skin…? Why is everyone staring at her like that?

“Huh? What?” Buffy asks, flushing a little since she obviously missed something during her big Check-Out-Faith-Fest of 1999.

Faith looks amused. “You, me; dance floor. Ya game?”

“Oh. I… um…” Buffy stutters, looking over at Willow like she should save her from this. 

Anytime now. 

Yup, _anytime_ now…

Willow just stares back at her, waiting for her answer. Okay, so saving would be a no, then. Right.

Buffy fiddles with her hands nervously, “I, um, I shouldn’t. Cause… I don’t wanna leave Willow alone! That’d be bad, you know; friends don’t leave other friends alone on couches. There are stories about that; they never end well.”

Okay, Earth to Buffy? Babbling makes you look like a complete idiot.

“Oh no, that’s okay, Buffy,” Willow says brightly, purposely avoiding any and all eye contact with Faith like she’s been doing lately. “Oz is almost done with his set; I’m going to go say hi. Maybe see if he wants a mocha.”

And then she’s up in a flash and gone even quicker.

The cheese stands alone.

Okay, not exactly alone since Faith is with her, but still. 

The point is that she’s alone with _Faith,_ and that’s… something she tries to avoid for a whole colorful array of reasons; one of them being that she’s now staring at Faith’s breasts like she found Jesus hidden in her cleavage.

Okay, that would be a weird visual. She’s pretty sure God should smite her for even having that thought.

“Come on, B; live a little,” Faith tells her, apparently not asking anymore if she wants to dance; she’s just going to make her whether Buffy likes it or not. Faith grabs her hand, pulling her to her feet and dragging her to the dance floor. Buffy just follows behind her in a daze, too focused on how nice Faith’s hand feels in hers to notice anything else going on around them at the moment.

She idly wonders if she moisturizes. With hands that soft, Faith’s got to do something.

_Ohmygodthere’sboobsinherface._

Faith puts one hand on Buffy’s hip and pulls her impossibly close to her as she starts to dance, effectively almost smooshing Buffy’s face in her cleavage. Buffy just stares, wide eyed, trying to remember how to move her feet and dance so she doesn’t look like a complete and utter perverted moron.

Move feet, move hips, stay competent; think about bananas, or apples, or maybe even a lawnmower, anything but how Faith’s hand is slowly moving up the back of her shirt.

Hands… hands! Where do _her_ hands go?! Oh god, she probably looks so retarded dancing around with her hands having their own annoying, danceless agenda. 

She could have sworn she used to know how to do this.

But that thought goes away once Faith takes one of Buffy’s hands in hers (which goes back to the _oh my god, can she read minds?_ theory) and holds them up over their head while she dances so close to her that even a sheet of paper couldn’t squeeze between them.

Buffy knows her breathing has become slightly irregular, but she’s hoping Faith just thinks it’s because she’s dancing so hard.

Hard.

Riding hard.

Hard cli—BAD THOUGHTS!

Buffy tries to pull away from Faith, maybe for some breathing room, but that doesn’t seem to be part of Faith’s master plan to drive her completely _insane_ , because she wraps one arm around her waist as she slips her thigh through Buffy’s legs.

_Grinding into her._

And, just to clarify, when Buffy says grinding, she means as in; right on the ‘oh my god _wow_ ’ spot.

Yeah. _That_ spot.

Buffy gasps hard at the pressure, but tries to stifle it by biting on her lower lip obnoxiously hard. Ow! Damnit, she’s gonna have a bruise later, but shit, that can wait because right now she is in _crisis mode!_

There should be a flashing neon sign that reads: “Abort mission! Enemy target knows she can get you off!”

But no such sign comes, and all Buffy can do is wrap her arms around Faith’s neck and struggle to continue dancing in a competent way that shows that no, she does _not_ get off on this. That she is just dancing. That Faith knows she’s just dancing; which in all honesty she doubts. At least not with that low chuckle in her ear that’s making a shiver go down to the base of her spine.

Faith presses her thigh harder against Buffy’s clit.

Buffy bites back a strangled, pathetic sounding whimper.

“Just let go, B,” Faith whispers in her ear, and Buffy’s pretty sure she knows exactly what kind of effect she’s having on her. This can’t be good.

And ‘let go’? If she ‘let go’ then she’d probably end up coming all over Faith’s leathers!

_IN THE MIDDLE OF THE BRONZE!_

Buffy takes a shuddered breath, trying to hold herself together. This is too much; this is like five exits back from too much. This wasn’t supposed to happen; she was supposed to be able to stay forever in the blissful land of _Faith-Maybe-Possibly-Doesn’t-Know-How-Much-I-Want-Her._

She bought a house in that land, for shit’s sake! She had made camp there; it was peaceful! There are no lewd activities such as this there; if there were, the Sherriff would surely arrest them both.

…Okay, she’s drifting a bit, but she’s trying to not concentrate on the delicious friction between her thighs.

She’s so going to hell. There’s probably a special place for anyone who has quasi-sex with Faith in the middle of the Bronze.

“God, B… I can smell how wet you are…” Faith purrs into her ear, grabbing onto her ass.

Okay, no! Bad hands, bad touching! Bad… everything! THIS IS BADNESS FROM THE REALM OF BAD!

Buffy pulls away from Faith quickly, practically pushing her away. She’s breathing heavily and her cheeks are flushed as she struggles to lie, “I’m not… I’m not _wet_ Faith! Oh my god, you…! Oh god.” Now she’s in full on panic mode. “I… I-I need to go,” Buffy stammers, before practically running away from Faith without letting her say another word.

I think the score on that would be Faith: 1; Buffy: 0.

Yeah, she’s going to hell.


	5. V

The one thing about school that Buffy loves?

Faith doesn’t go here.

After the other night at the Bronze, Buffy had been playing the ‘avoid Faith at any and all costs’ game, and school was like her savior right now. Snyder was a sniveling weasel as always, and managed to give her detention because he “didn’t like her tone,” but other than that it was a pretty successful day with no Faith in sight.

As she sat in detention though, her mind started to drift back to the Bronze, and what happened the other night. God, she wishes she wasn’t such a coward! It’s so messed up because all she wants, all she ever _thinks_ about is Faith will her hands all over her; giving her an orgasm and then it almost happens and she freaks out!

WHAT IS WRONG WITH HER?!

Not that having an orgasm in the middle of the Bronze is her greatest fantasy, however. She’d like for it to at least include a bed or something.

Buffy likes to think she would warrant at least a _little_ bit of class, even if Faith’s involved.

Not that Faith’s not classy, of course!

…Okay, she isn’t. But that doesn’t make her any less sexy.

God, she’s so stupid. Faith wants her; obviously. So why is this so hard for Buffy? Why can’t she just be like “Faith, would you like to go on a date with me?”

Probably because Faith doesn’t date.

Buffy’s not sure she even knows the meaning of the word.

At all.

Faith’s version of a date would probably be buying liquor, getting trashed, stealing a car, and then fucking in the back of it.

Buffy wishes that a small part of her didn’t find that appealing.

Not that she’ll ever find out if that’ll happen though, because for that to happen she’d have to _see_ Faith, and she plans to avoid her until the day she dies. It’s just safer that way.

Which, you know, would have worked; really, it would have been a good solid plan except for the large _gaping_ hole in it; Faith is now standing the doorway to the detention room.

Shit.

This would go over a whole lot better if their detention hall teacher wasn’t sleeping behind a book. Half of the students already walked out. Only the people that didn’t actually _deserve_ to be there were left. Which pretty much just left her and the nerdy girl behind her that’s been muttering to herself while she does her Calculus homework.

Sometimes she forgets how much of a loser she is, but thankfully she has moments like this to remind her. Ugh. 

God, why is Faith just _smirking_ at her like that?

Does she really have to lean against the door in such a way that it makes her boobs practically grow ten sizes?

And will Buffy ever, just once, learn to stop staring at her boobs?

No, probably not. She can’t destroy her own life that way.

“Sup, B.”

“I’m in detention, Faith. Go away,” Buffy manages to mumble, but not without her face turning about fifteen shades of red. She chooses to look out the window instead; it’s safer out there. There aren’t women out there that she wants to rip their clothes off of.

Nope, that woman is in here. That woman is… _straddling her desk?_

“What are you _doing?_ ” Buffy hisses, eyes darting over to the teacher who still seems to be fast asleep. Lucky him. If he was awake he’d be in Buffy’s own personal version of hell.

Well, she did ask for a room with a view.

“Sittin’, B, what’s it look like?” Faith asks, leaning over to grasp the top of the desk that’s close to Buffy, effectively making her cleavage insanely more attractive, and much more in her face.

Buffy has half a mind to just stand up, because without her added weight on the seat, Faith would come crashing down. But then that’d wake up her teacher, and she really doesn’t want detention for another week.

“I’m in _detention,_ ” Buffy whispers harshly, making too much of an effort to not look down Faith’s shirt.

“So ya said,” Faith replies casually. “I wanted to talk.”

“About _what?_ ” Buffy asks in disbelief. What could Faith possibly want to talk about that is worth her coming over here and screwing with her hormones?!

“’Bout the Bronze.”

Excuse her?

Faith wants to _talk?_ Buffy didn’t even know she was programmed for such a thing, especially about stuff like that.

Buffy looks up at her surprised and notices Faith won’t meet her gaze, but she shrugs and goes on, “So let’s get outta here. Teach’ is asleep; ain’t gonna miss ya.”

“I can’t just leave,” Buffy protests. That’s like against section 84B in the Student Handbook or something.

Besides, leaving with Faith to talk about her almost having an orgasm on her leg? No and thanks.

“Sure ya can, it’s easy,” Faith says, sliding off the desk and grabbing Buffy’s hand, pulling her up out of her seat. “Come on.”

“No, Faith, I can’t… no,” Buffy says, shaking her head wildly. 

“Fine, then we’ll talk here,” Faith tells her.

Buffy stares at her for a moment in disbelief until she turns around and notices Nerdy Girl is suddenly very interested in their conversation. Okay, no. No witnesses. Especially if she has to kill Faith, she definitely doesn’t need witnesses.

Or if she dies from sheer humiliation; no one needs to know about that.

She looks at her warily before locking her jaw, hoping she’s coming off as peeved and not as the nervous wreck she really is. “Fine,” she says shortly, glaring at her for extra Brownie points before she stomps out of the room like a spoiled child who didn’t get their cookie.

Buffy folds her arms across herself defiantly as she waits out in the hall. “Well?” she asks, trying to be bitchy since that way her voice won’t shake as much.

“Not out here,” Faith tells her, then proceeds to drag her into an empty classroom.

Oh, this is a recipe for bad.

Martha Stewart could make a fortune off of this in a ‘How To Completely Turn Your Life Upside Down’ cookbook.

Because everyone buys Martha Stewart stuff, even if it’s gonna ruin your life.

Then the door closes and they’re just staring at each other. Clearly Faith thought this was a better plan than what it actually turned out to be because she doesn’t seem to know where to begin. The way she’s looking at her though makes Buffy’s heart pound in her chest and her mouth go dry.

“Look, B…” she starts, moving a step towards her. Buffy takes a step back instinctively and it makes Faith stop and sigh, like Buffy just made her entire point. “I didn’t mean to freak ya out.”

“I… I’m not freaked out! I’m good, really, it’s just… it was… there was touching and… and I shouldn’t be touched after ten pm! Bad things tend to happen. People die; you know,” Buffy rambles, making a point to not look her in the face.

God, that didn’t even make sense. What is wrong with her?

Faith smirks a little, but then purses her lips together. “We cool?” she asks, sounding a little worried that they aren’t. Her tone makes Buffy look at her.

“Yeah… yeah, we’re… we’re fine, Faith. Really,” Buffy says, trying to give her a little smile, but she’s pretty sure her hands are shaking like a leaf and overcompensates by shoving her hands into her jeans rather abruptly; it looked awkward. 

Faith raises an eyebrow. “You don’t seem fine,” she tells her.

“No! Really I… I’m good. Yeah. I’m fine. ‘Five by five, Buffy’; you know me,” Buffy rambles, then cringes.

‘Five by five Buffy’? Could she _be_ anymore lame?

“B… Buffy, I… I know you’re completely freaked right now and that’s my bad cause I shouldn’ta… I dunno, I just get like that when I dance,” Faith tells her, slowly making her way towards her. She looks a little unsure of herself, something Buffy is sure she’d die without ever seeing.

She’s getting closer.

Buffy’s rooted to the spot.

“No, I… it’s fine. I…” _enjoyed it._ Thankfully she didn’t say that out loud.

“You what?” Faith presses, her dark eyes meeting Buffy’s light ones and making Buffy feel like she just melted into a puddle of Slayer lovesick goo.

“I-I… um…” Buffy stutters, trying to find the words, but her brain seems to be stuck on pause. Faith’s way too close now, too close to be casual and Buffy’s panicking. “Tomato!” she blurts out abruptly.

What?

“What?” Faith asks, looking confused.

“I… need to buy tomatoes! For mom, you know how she gets if she doesn’t have tomatoes in the house. Or you probably don’t, actually, but you do now so… yeah. I… I gotta go,” Buffy stammers before trying to make a quick getaway.

The Goddess of Closeted Lesbians though, apparently doesn’t rule in her favor.

“No, B; wait,” Faith says, grabbing Buffy’s arm and pulling her back around to face her.

Oh god, she’s pressed up right against her now. Brain overload! ABORT MISSION!

But Buffy can’t say anything; she’s breathless as she looks at Faith; her lips close enough to taste. She can’t move; she’s pretty sure her legs decided to take this very inconvenient moment to not work. Faith’s hand that’s holding her arm relaxes its grip and now her thumb is lightly brushing over her skin, giving her goose bumps.

It’s like a moment right out of a movie; except this is real life, so this can’t be happening right now.

Everything is like slow motion; the way Faith’s eyes search hers for any sign of resistance, which Buffy would like to show but can’t possibly manage to right now even if her life depended on it; and then her lips; her full, soft, succulent lips drawing closer, closer… until there’s only a breath of air between them.

Buffy’s pretty sure she’s about to pass out.

And yet, like an idiot, she’s the one that closes the distance; pressing her lips hesitantly against Faith’s.

Oh god, she just died and went to Heaven.

It’s only moments before Faith’s tongue is against hers; the brunette’s arms around her waist, pulling her closer as she gives Buffy the best kiss she’s ever had in her entire life. Buffy used to imagine how Brad Pitt would kiss and well, this trumps fantasy Brad Pitt any day of the week.

It takes Buffy a moment, but she slowly gets a little bolder, sliding her hand up Faith’s arm to her neck before tangling in her hair. Faith nips at her bottom lip softly, emitting a quiet whimper from Buffy’s lips.

But then everything has to go to shit, like always.

A loud _BANG!_ is heard outside the classroom door, probably just the Janitor’s noisy cart, but it startles Buffy back into reality so much that she jumps backwards and practically scrambles away from Faith, eyes wide.

Shit. This is bad. _What did she do?!_

Faith’s just gonna hurt her. Fuck her then step on her and _destroy_ her heart completely. She can’t do this; she needs to stop this. This already got too out of hand.

“B?” Faith asks, looking a little worried at how freaked out Buffy looks at the moment.

“You… you can’t just… just come in here and think you can kiss me like that, Faith!” Buffy stammers.

_“What?”_

“Not everyone who meets you wants to do that… that kissing thing you do with your tongue and… arrgg! Faith! Why did you do that?!” Buffy shrieks, frustrated.

“You kissed _me!_ ” Faith defends.

“No I didn’t!” Buffy lies, which seems to be what she does best. “I’m not gay, Faith! I don’t like you like that! Just… just leave me alone!”

“Fuck you, B; this Bipolar act of yours ain’t the least bit cute,” Faith snaps at her, looking a little wounded.

“Leave me alone, Faith,” Buffy warns her before turning and practically running out of the classroom door, down the hall, and out of the school. She doesn’t stop until she’s at her house, practically in tears.

God, why does she have to be so completely and utterly _stupid?!_


	6. VI

It’s been a week and Faith won’t even _look_ at her, let alone talk to her.

That’s what made Buffy realize she was a complete and utter idiot.

She’d been having that theory as of late but, _oh_ yeah; this confirmed it like a bag of bricks to the face.

Faith isn’t one to take things personally; especially anything that has to do with sex. She’s ‘get some, get gone’ and ‘for everyone one person that says no there’s a hundred who will say yes’; so Faith taking this personally enough to make an effort to completely ignore her? That spoke volume to Buffy; volumes that gave her a headache and made her rethink her own IQ; which she hopes still comes out respectably above a hundred, otherwise she’s really screwed.

It also had her kicking herself in the ass for the better part of the week.

Why does she always have to assume? She could have had everything she wanted, but no; she had to go and basically accuse Faith of kiss-raping her.

She’s such a magnificent retard.

So that’s why she’s currently standing outside of Faith’s motel room door with a plate of home baked cookies.

Don’t laugh at her; Faith loves to eat. She likes cookies, and chocolate chip are her favorite. Buffy knows it’s lame, but she’s never wooed a girl before and Faith doesn’t exactly seem like a flowers and cuddly soft toys kind of girl. The way to Faith’s heart is through her stomach and her… well, um, _other_ parts.

Oh god, this is never gonna work if Buffy’s starting to get embarrassed just in her head. This is ridiculous; ninety five percent of her day is dedicated to thinking about Faith’s “other parts”, and now she can’t even say the word in her head?

….

Pussy.

Okay, there we go. Points for not blushing too.

Shit. Why is she still standing out here looking like a stalker?!

Buffy hesitantly brings her hand to the door as she knocks on it. She almost jumps from the unexpected loudness – she really didn’t mean to knock that hard – and almost drops the plate of cookies. She manages to steady her hand and tries to ignore the heavy beating of her heart that’s threatening to pound right out of her chest and fall to the ground with a plop.

The door swings open quickly, something else that startles Buffy almost out of her skin. She’s just standing there; stock still with her eyes a little wide as she stares at Faith, who’s staring back at her.

Crap. Brain; work! Mouth; you can say something any time now!

“…Hi.”

Oh brilliant, Buffy. Really. Kudos.

“What do you want?” Faith asks flatly.

“I brought cookies?” Buffy offers questionably, holding up the plate to Faith’s gaze. Faith eyes them cautiously.

“Why?”

“Because they’re your favorite?”

Oh my god, why is everything she’s saying ending with a question?!

Faith stares at the plate of delicious chocolate chip goodness for a moment before she says, “Fine.” She grabs the plate of cookies… and then closes the door in her face.

Okay. That didn’t go the way she wanted it to.

_BANG BANG BANG!_

_“What?”_ Faith asks, annoyed as she swings the door open again to be greeted by a nervous, but more determined Buffy.

“I wasn’t done.”

“Why? You got a plate of muffins stashed up your skirt?” Faith asks, though her eyes do wander down to look for a brief moment.

“No, I—”

“Then I guess we’re done,” Faith says as she attempts to close the door in her face again.

Buffy sticks out her foot and prevents her from doing that though. She pushes the door open roughly, marching into Faith’s apartment and making the brunette back up a couple steps.

“No! I’m not done, Faith,” Buffy tells her. She’s not leaving until she does what she came to do. “I need to apologize to you.”

“For what, B? For being a stuck up tight ass?” Faith mocks, but Buffy notices there is a distinct lack of her trying to throw her out of her apartment head first.

And she is so _not_ stuck up!

But regardless.

“No, for being a liar,” Buffy tells her, looking her in the eyes for once; trying to convey as much truth behind them as she could. 

Faith looks at her like she doesn’t know what to make of that statement. “Yeah?” she asks casually, but Buffy can see her defenses clear as day as she leans against the wall and crosses her arms over her chest. “What about?”

“About everything!” Buffy blurts out, this desperate need to make everything better is starting to take over. “About… okay, you remember in the graveyard that night; when you said I wanted you? I do want you, Faith. And… and in the library; yes, I liked what I saw, I _still_ like what I see! And I was totally jealous when you kissed Willow, and I was really, _really_ turned on at the Bronze and _I_ was the one that kissed you, okay? I know I did! I do like you like that and that probably means I am a little gay and I’m sorry I freaked out but I was scared you were going to just have sex with me and then ignore me and I just… I couldn’t take that, Faith. Not… not with how I feel for you. It’s like everything inside of me is—”

But Buffy’s ramble is cut off by Faith’s lips pressing against hers; making her emit a quiet gasp into her mouth. She didn’t even register Faith moving and now suddenly she’s the one getting backed up against the door, Faith’s tongue requesting entrance into her mouth. They kiss for a moment before Faith breaks it and whispers:

“You talk too much, B.”

“I know, I think it’s a nervous habit. I tend to just spew random words until—” but she’s cut off again and Buffy closes her eyes, deciding that talking is definitely of the bad right now.

Faith’s lips leave Buffy’s after awhile and then she’s kissing her cheek, her chin, down her neck, her shoulder. Buffy bites on her lower lip and whimpers a little just from the sheer mind-blowing insanity that Faith actually wants her.

That Faith picked _her._

Wait… Faith did pick her, right?

“Faith…?” Buffy breathes out nervously, trying to get her attention once she realizes something.

“Mmm?” Faith asks, not letting up for a second on Buffy’s neck.

“What… uh, what does this mean?”

That makes Faith stop for a second before sliding up; pressing her breasts more into Buffy and making her breathing catch in her throat. “What do you want it to mean?” she asks in her ear, her rough, sultry voice turning Buffy into a pile of incompetent hormones.

“Uh…”

Shit, her mouth actually working would be helpful here. She can’t concentrate when Faith’s licking her ear like that!

Faith chuckles a little at her inability to speak and slides a hand up Buffy’s stomach to rest on her ribcage. “B?” she asks, amused.

“Uh… I mean, um… Faith, I can’t think when you’re doing that!” Buffy blurts out, making Faith stop doing that amazing thing with her tongue.

She immediately regrets it, but sets herself back on task.

“Like… are we… are we _dating_ , or…?”

Faith pauses for a moment and Buffy holds her breath.

“Never done the date thing,” Faith tells her, in a voice that annoyingly doesn’t give Buffy any insight into her feelings about the matter.

“Well I’ve never done the dating a _girl_ thing so maybe we could… I don’t know, help each other?” Buffy asks; timid hope in her voice.

Faith pulls back to look at her. “Ya askin’ to be my chick?”

“I would have gone with the term ‘girlfriend’, but… yes?”

Buffy really hopes she doesn’t sound as pathetic as she thinks she does.

“So like… I could only have sex with you?” Faith asks, trying to clarify. Buffy gets more nervous.

“Yes?”

“Why do ya keep questioning all your answers?”

“I’m not?”

“B!”

“Sorry,” Buffy says, looking a bit sheepish. “I mean yes, if we dated then… then only sex with me.”

A long pause follows that.

“…Can we have sex a lot?” It looks like Faith’s weighing the pros and cons.

“All the time,” Buffy breathes, a little hope coming back into her voice as well as desire from the thought. 

“But what if I get sick of ya?”

Buffy’s heart feels like it shatters and her face falls immediately. 

Faith widens her eyes and waves her hands erratically. “Shit, sorry, B, don’t look like that; I was just jokin’! Bad joke, okay, yeah. Fuck, Jesus, don’t look like you’re gonna cry…”

Buffy’s face contorts in annoyance and she pushes Faith back roughly. “That wasn’t funny!”

Faith winces at the impact, but takes it. “I know, I’m sorry. Just all this relationship talk kinda freaks me out. I ain’t used to this shit, okay?”

“I know but…” then Buffy pauses. “Wait, do you not want to?”

“Of course I fuckin’ want to, Buffy. I was just bein’ a jackass.”

“Well can you stop?”

“Can I kiss you again?”

“Only if you stop.”

“Then I’m stoppin’.”

“Good,” Buffy says, before grabbing Faith’s shirt and pulling her towards her. Their lips meet in a heated kiss and Buffy’s head feels like it’s spinning as Faith demonstrates exactly how well she knows how to use that tongue of hers. It’s like she got high while eating the best chocolate in the world before being spun around in circles right before she starts flying; _that’s_ what kissing Faith is like.

Buffy feels her shirt being tugged on as Faith backs them up the bed, before toppling down on her back and pulling Buffy on top of her. Buffy has the surprising thought of _‘Faith’s going to let me be on top?’_ before she’s rolled over and Faith straddles her stomach.

Of course not.

Not that Buffy’s complaining. Even as her clothes are being frantically torn from her body by Faith’s impatient hands, she does have the thought that she could be a little slower, a little more _romantic_ at least, but she knows that if she suggests that then there’s the high possibility that Faith’s head might explode from fear.

She likes Faith’s head, so that’d be unfortunate.

So she lets Faith undress her (and ‘undressing’ is a generous term, seeing as her shirt just got ripped clean in half) as she kisses her, letting her hands wander to every part of Faith that she can touch. One of Faith’s hands find Buffy’s breast as her other works on pulling off her skirt, and Buffy sighs softly from the feeling, trying to ignore all the nervous butterflies that are making camp in her stomach at the fact that _she’s about to have sex with a girl._ Namely, _Faith_ being said girl.

Faith doesn’t give her much time to dwell on that though as she kisses her roughly before dipping her head down to capture one of the blonde’s nipples. “Faith,” Buffy breathes, her hands tangling in her long, dark locks just as Faith manages to get Buffy’s skirt untangled from her legs. Buffy is vaguely aware that there she is, half naked – nope, _fully_ naked now as Faith tears off her panties – while Faith is completely dressed still, and she starts pulling on Faith’s clothes, trying to get her point across. 

“Faith,” she whimpers, just as Faith’s tongue teases her painfully erect nipple. “Clothes. Too many. Get rid of.” Yeah, she’s pretty sure that didn’t come out as coherent as she would have liked, but whatever.

Faith chuckles around her breast before she leans up, and in a manner that was so seductive it should be _illegal_ , strips off her shirt. Her eyes are connected to Buffy’s the entire time, and after she unhooks her bra and lets it fall to the bed, Buffy feels herself inhale sharply at the sight of Faith’s _perfect_ breasts.

“Better?” Faith asks, her voice husky and dripping of all the potential orgasms she’s about to give her.

“It’s… a start,” Buffy squeaks, but then confidently looks at Faith’s leathers, again trying to get her point across. She wanted to see all of her. She’s pretty sure she’s starting to get some of Faith’s impatience, because the word, “NOW,” comes out of her mouth as she sits up, grabbing onto Faith’s belt loop to pull her down on top of her as she starts to work on Faith’s pants herself. 

She doesn’t have time for Faith to be all, ‘look at me! I’m sexy and coy and am going to tease you half to death!”

No. None of that.

Naked Faith _now,_ thank you.

Faith chuckles a little as Buffy kisses her again, and it seems for a moment that Faith’s going to let her take the lead until she pushes Buffy’s hands away and in a move reserved only for professional sex goddesses, manages to take her leather pants off in record time. Buffy swears she has a little quip in her head about that, but it’s lost just as Faith’s full and very naked body comes into contact with hers.

Both girls gasp from the feeling, but it turns into a moan on Faith’s part as Buffy instinctively presses her thigh up against Faith’s center; needing to get closer to her. “Oh my god,” Buffy breathes as she feels how wet Faith is already. 

“Fuck, B,” Faith breathes before pressing her own thigh squarely against Buffy’s clit, making the blonde whimper hard and hold onto Faith’s back as the younger slayer starts to suck on the base of Buffy’s neck in a way that made her head spin and her hair stand on end. “You feel so fuckin’ good.”

Buffy, in an effort to be brave and bold as well as in need to satisfy her own curiosity, slides her hands around Faith to grasp both of her breasts, feeling the swell of them in each of her palms. God, she’s pretty sure she could play with Faith’s breasts for hours. As she brushes her thumbs across Faith’s nipples, proud of herself when she makes Faith emit a growl against her skin, Faith once again presses hard against Buffy’s clit, making the blonde cry out.

“I wanna fuck you with my tongue, Buffy,” Faith breathes in her ear as she continuously keeps pressure on her clit. “Wanna make you come all over my face.”

Leave it to Faith to completely reduce her to puddle of incompetent goo with just a few words. Buffy tries to respond, but all that seems to come out is a mess of pathetic whimpers, which Faith takes as approval. The descent Faith takes down her body is agonizingly slow, like she knows she’s about to make Buffy’s head explode with pure, unadulterated, sexual need. It drives her crazy, but she relishes every second of it.

She’d probably be an idiot not to, though.

When Faith’s tongue finally slips through Buffy’s folds, she’s pretty sure she screamed so loud that Faith’s neighbor’s about to come knocking. But it really doesn’t matter. “Oh god!” she gasps, spreading her legs wide to let Faith do what she wants to her. 

God, her tongue. That _tongue._

Buffy’s sure her whimpers of encouragement are useless, seeing as she’s pretty sure that Faith would be down there anyway, regardless of encouraging sounds; she sure as hell seems to enjoy it anyway. She’s moaning against Buffy’s clit, vibrating it in a way that makes Buffy feel like she’s about to pass out, but end up in a land filled with flowers and rainbows and probably a dancing cat or something.

Oh god, whatever Faith just did with her tongue just made her insides clench _so hard._

“Faith!” Buffy cries, just as Faith slides her tongue deep inside of her. Buffy bites on her lower lip and tries not to buck her hips so hard against Faith’s face as she grabs onto the bed sheets.

Faith goes at her like a pro; hitting all the right spots and making Buffy feel like she’s reaching new and indescribable heights. She’s pretty sure she’s about to come, but then Faith stops, making Buffy swear in a heat of frustration, “What the fuck did you do that for?”

Faith looks surprised to hear that kind of language coming out of Buffy, but just laughs as she crawls up her body and captures her lips in a passionate kiss. “Shut up, B,” she mumbles before suddenly two of her fingers are buried deep inside of Buffy.

“Oh god!” Buffy cries, slamming her hips against her hand in desperation. Her hands wander down Faith’s body, grabbing her hips and digging her nails in for a moment just as Faith hits a spot that makes her dizzy. “Harder, Faith,” she begs, just before she allows her hand to find its way between Faith’s legs, slipping into her heat and making the brunette growl in her ear.

“Fuck me, Buffy,” Faith demands before her lips capture hers again, bruising them with the sheer intensity behind the force of her request. Buffy moans against her lips as she seeks out Faith’s clit with her thumb, just as two of her fingers slide inside of her. The sound Faith makes is nothing less than pornographic and it makes Buffy clench around Faith’s fingers.

“Whatever you want,” Buffy whispers, realizing she’s probably becoming the most submissive person on this earth in the span of ten minutes. But it _is_ whatever Faith wants; at this point she’d do anything to satisfy her.

“Uuggnnff _fuck_ ,” Faith groans just as she rolls her hips into Buffy, allowing her fingers to go deeper inside of the blonde in sync. Buffy responds by a roll of her own hips, allowing her fingers to do the same while she circles her clit with her thumb. She’s gasping against her lips, her other hand frantically grabbing onto Faith’s back as she tries to keep up with the borderline _insane_ pace that Faith just started.

It’s fast, it’s rough, it becomes more about trying to connect and falling into each other than just about sex, and Buffy tries desperately to hold onto her as her head gets cloudy and her limbs get weak and all she can seem to say is, “Faith, Faith, _Faith,_ ” over and over as she starts to reach her peak. Faith’s face is buried in her neck, and while she isn’t as vocal as Buffy is, Buffy can tell she’s getting close by her breathing and the way her hips are starting to twitch; her thighs beginning to tremble. 

“Fuck, Buffy,” she groans against her skin, and just as Buffy’s sure she’s about to fall over the edge like tomorrow isn’t coming, she presses hard against Faith’s clit, making the brunette gasp hard just as a flood of wetness cover’s Buffy’s hand. Buffy screams and bites down on Faith’s neck just as her own muscles spasm, her orgasm washing over her, making her feel completely infinite.

Faith collapses against her afterwards, both girls trying desperately to catch their breath. “Oh… my… god,” Buffy breathes, realizing in full effect what they just did. Not that she was regretting it, but it was just so… surreal.

“Yeah,” Faith murmurs against her skin. They lie there for a little while in contentment, until all of a sudden Faith sits up and punches Buffy in the arm.

“Ow!” Buffy protests, rubbing the offended area. “What the hell was that for?”

“Don’t fuckin’ lie to me again,” Faith warns.

Buffy giggles a little before she wraps her hand around Faith’s neck, pulling her into a kiss. “I won’t,” she promises. Because lying got her nowhere, while telling the truth got her here, with Faith.

And she loves it here.

**THE END**


End file.
